


Companionship

by yeaka



Category: Red Riding Hood (2011)
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:47:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21774670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Henry checks in.
Relationships: Peter/Valerie (Red Riding Hood)
Kudos: 26





	Companionship

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Red Riding Hood or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The others fall back, leaving a respectful distance, and Henry leaves his horse with them. He crosses onto Valerie’s property on his own, strolling across the snow-laden yard dotted with half-chopped logs and unlit fires. Her house looms above him, elaborately built amongst the trees: a grand fortress outside the safety of village gates, inherited from her grandmother. Henry knows she loves her new home, and it was her choice to leave, but he still worries about her from to time. When he’s leaving to patrol the woods around the village, he may as well visit. He knocks on the door and hears the scuffle of feet behind it. Then the door pulls open, and Valerie’s pretty face shines up at him. 

She dons a soft smile and greets, “Henry.” Her pink lips look just as soft as he remembers. Her eyes are wide and bright. Her pale skin complements her golden hair, her blue dress picking up her irises. She’s a vision of sheer beauty that he’s never quite moved on from. There’s just no one in the world quite so intoxicating. 

She steps back, gestures inside, and offers, “Why don’t you come in for tea?”

Henry really shouldn’t spare the time. He glances over his shoulder, but his friends are too far away to see his sheepish look. He looks back at her, and his knees grow weak. He agrees, “A quick one.”

Valerie smiles. His heart beats faster for it. He comes inside, and the door shuts heavily behind him, cutting off the cruel winter wind. Inside is warm and toasty—she has the fire going. He can smell the burning embers, and something _else_ that tickles the back of his memory. Valerie wanders towards the stove and tells him, “I just finished boiling water...”

Henry’s listening to her, but he can’t help his gaze from turning to the bedroom. The curtains are lightly swaying as though they’ve just been moved, but she doesn’t look like she’s just woken up. She’s in perfect order. She sets two mugs on the table, and Henry tears himself away—it’s rude to stare at a woman’s bed. As she pours the tea, he tells her, “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Her chair scrapes back—she sits down across from him. She takes her first sip calm and slow. It’s as though she’s not lonely in the slightest, even though she’s exiled herself from everyone that she once knew. She’s rarely ever seen in the village anymore. She must know that he worries for her—that so many do. He doesn’t say it again, because every time he does, she insists she can take care of herself, and it’s not that he doesn’t believe her.

His eyes skim her home instead, looking for something to comment on—anything to prolong the moment. He spots a leather collar sitting on the chair by the fire, and his brows furrow.

Valerie follows his gaze. She casually explains, “I have a dog now.”

“Oh, do you?” That actually does explain a few things. And it gives him some comfort. He’s glad that she has some company. And animals are quite intuitive: a dog is sure to alert her if danger comes. He asks, “Does that dog protect you?”

Valerie grins and answers, “I protect him.”

Henry frowns. A smaller or tamer dog won’t do her any good. She needs something strong and capable. He asks, “Where is he now?” Though Henry thinks he has some idea. Now that he’s settled and gotten used to the crackling fire, he can hear something else breathing—panting softly, like a canine. Valerie nods towards the bedroom and tells him, “On the other side of the bed. Most likely asleep.”

“Ah. Can I meet him?”

“Not unless you want to be barked at and chased out of the house.”

Henry’s smile twitches. He chuckles, “Fair enough.” _That’s_ the kind of behaviour he wants her dog to have. It should protect Valerie at all costs and chase away strange men.

A horse neighs beyond her window—not his, but one of his friend’s. It’s a squeal of terror, as though it’s picked up a bear’s scent. That’s Henry’s cue to leave. He takes a long, delicious sip of her tea.

Then he stands and tells her again, “Thank you.” She nods.

She gets up too and follows him to the door. Just as he’s sliding through it, she murmurs, “Goodbye.”

He looks back at her. For a few fleeting seconds, he sees everything he lost: just how incredible she is, and how he’ll never find another woman like her. But she’s already chosen her path, and Henry knows he can never be what Peter was to her. 

He leaves, and he leaves her to her life.


End file.
